FAGE 11: My Heart Will Go On
by razztaztic
Summary: Written for FAGE 11, for That's-So-Alex. Twilight AU. Edward and Bella meet on board the Titanic, unaware of the catastrophe that awaits. To be continued...
1. Chapter 1

**FAGE 11: Are You In?  
****Title: My Heart Will Go On  
****Written for: ****That's-So-Alex  
****Written By: Razztaztic  
****Rating: T  
****Summary/Prompt used: ****Titanic-based period fic**

**If you would like to see all the stories that are a part of this exchange visit the Facebook ****group: Fanficaholics Anon: Where Obsession Never Sleeps, or add the C2 to get all the ****stories direct to your inbox.**

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The wharf was an overwhelming hive of activity, bustling with carriages and buggies discharging late-arriving passengers, crowded with wagons and carts loaded with the last of the provisions meant to feed more than 2,000 people for the seven days it would take to cross the Atlantic. The noise was just as overwhelming, a babbling jumble of indistinguishable shouts and raised voices, mixed with the crack of whips and the braying of horses and donkeys as they struggled to pull the multitude of conveyances through the crowd.

Standing at the railing of the first class deck, preternaturally-sensitive hearing made the sounds below just as loud to the man who watched from the ship lashed to the pier a hundred yards away. Shadowed beneath the brim of a grey fedora, his face was expressionless as he gazed out over the scene - a scene that, to be truthful, he barely saw. His thoughts were of London, miles away from the crowded docks of Southampton and the warehouses stacked like kindling that filled the horizon. London, where almost six centuries ago, he'd been a young boy watching the spires of Southwark Cathedral rise into the sky. London, and the teeming slums where he'd fled as a young man after a night of horror, condemned, or so he believed then, to an endless life of violence and evil. Now, with a family to care for and facing an eternity that looked decidedly less bleak, he felt a bittersweet pang as he wondered if he would ever see the city again.

Slender fingers wrapped around his arm, cool and hard as marble, as a woman stepped up to the railing beside him.

"I thought I'd find you here."

Carlisle covered Esme's hand with his own but continued to stare into the horizon. "I was saying goodbye."

She turned her fingers over to twin with his. "Not goodbye. Farewell, perhaps. We will return some day, I'm sure of it."

"Perhaps," was all Carlisle said. "How is everyone?"

"They're settling into their suites."

Carlisle did look at her then. Worry carved a thin line between his eyebrows. "And Jasper?"

Esme sighed. "He's finding it more difficult. The ship is so crowded. So many people. So much . . . life." She met Carlisle's eyes and gave him a reassuring smile. "We all fed well last night, remember? He'll be fine. It's only a week, remember? Emmett and Rosalie are with him. And he has Alice."

Carlisle wasn't convinced. "And how is Edward? I worry about him as much as Jasper."

One shoulder rose in a dainty shrug. "You know Edward. He compensates for being able to hear everyone else's thoughts by not sharing his own. He's reading one of those immensely boring volumes of that _Encyclopaedia Britannica_ that he insisted on bringing with him."

"Well, at least he'll have something with which to occupy himself during the voyage." Carlisle laughed, then grew somber. "I would feel more confident if Alice had seen a glimpse of the future. Still nothing?"

Esme smiled at a group of fellow passengers who took up a place only a few feet away. Carlisle made no objection when she led him on a slow, casual walk along the deck, out of earshot of anyone else. "Not yet," she said quietly, "but you know her visions are unpredictable. And her concern for Jasper has occupied all her thoughts. She's scarcely had the opportunity to free her mind for other uses."

"I suppose." Carlisle stopped abruptly and turned to face her. "Have I made the right decision?"

Esme touched his cheek lightly. "Carlisle, this wasn't your decision. It was ours, as a family. We discussed it for months, weighing every possible outcome. The choice to leave England does not rest solely on your shoulders."

His jaw set in a stubborn line that was all too familiar. "It was my idea to move to America."

"Yes, it was," Esme admitted. "But we all agreed . . . eventually."

The teasing glint in her eyes soothed Carlisle's last-minute misgivings. A surge of renewed enthusiasm flooded his senses. "It will be good for us, Esme. It will! The western country is far less settled than anywhere in England. When the ship docks in New York, we can head north into Canada to feed, and keep traveling until we see the Pacific Ocean. We can settle where there are no humans. We might have decades of freedom before anyone else arrives! Just think! No more moving away and returning as our own children! We'll be able to hunt without fear of being seen! We can-"

Laughing, Esme threw up her hands in a gesture of defeat. "I'm convinced, my love! We're all convinced! America is the land of opportunity, even for our kind."

Carlisle wrapped an arm around her waist and hugged her into his side. Together, they looked out at the bustling wharf as the gangways were unhooked after the last crew hurried on board. "It is meant to be, Esme. I knew it when I was fortunate enough to secure tickets for the Titanic. What could be more fortuitous than traveling to our new life on board a ship that cannot sink? The fates are smiling on us."

Esme sighed, and laid her head against his shoulder. "Yes, they are."

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Far away from the luxury of the first class deck, Bella Swan stood nervously as a rail thin, severely-dressed older woman, who had introduced herself as Miss Trickelbank, circled around her, silently studying the neat shirtwaist and simple navy skirt she wore. Bony fingers brushed against her elbow when they slid under the lace-trimmed edge of one sleeve and tugged roughly to test the stitching.

"You made this yourself?"

Bella nodded, and kept her eyes trained straight ahead. "Yes, miss."

"I expected Madame Joubert to send someone older." Miss Trickelbank's frown hinted at a lingering suspicion of the glowing reference from the London modiste. She came to a stop facing Bella. Her sharp gaze scanned the young woman from the thick brown hair piled on top of her head, to the pointed toes of the shoes that peeked out from under her hem. "You understand that your passage to America will be the only payment you receive for your work over the next week? You will not receive any additional wages."

"Yes, miss." It took every ounce of self-control Bella possessed to remain still. The ship's engines vibrated beneath her feet, feeding into the almost overwhelming sense of anticipation and excitement that pulsed through her veins. A new life was almost within reach . . .

One last heart-stopping moment of silence passed before the grey head dipped in the barest of nods. "I suppose you'll do. Come with me."

Relief flooded through Bella in such a rush, she was a split second late following the woman out into a narrow corridor. Heart pounding, she grabbed the heavy canvas bag that contained all her worldly possessions, and hurried to catch up.

"Your quarters are on the first class deck." Miss Trickelbank didn't bother raising her voice; clearly, she expected Bella to stay close enough to hear her as they made their way along the passage. "That is purely a convenience for our guests," she added, just in case Bella might be tempted to think herself worthy of first class status. "Most of the ladies will have brought their maids, but those who haven't or those whose maids are too busy for minor repairs, will be told they can bring their mending to you. You're to make yourself available during the day, up through the late dinner sitting, in case any of the ladies' dresses need attention."

She turned the corner into a wider corridor that was obviously for passenger use, as the floor gleamed with polish and a series of paintings hung on the walls between doors set within ornate frames, and marched straight to a much plainer door near the end of the hall. A tiny plaque set at eye level read _Seamstress_.

Miss Trickelbank ushered Bella inside. The room was small, with one tiny porthole looking out to sea, and furnished with a dressmaker's dummy, a glass-fronted cabinet filled with threads and other supplies, and sitting just under a plain light fixture hanging from the ceiling, a brand new pedal-operated Singer sewing machine. Bella gasped in wonder and hurried over to examine it more closely.

"You do know how to use one of these, I presume."

"Oh yes, miss." Bella traced the colorful design painted on the black enamel. "We had one in the workshop at Madame Joubert's, although it wasn't nearly so nice."

"Hmmpf. Well, see that you treat the machine with care. I understand that it can be very delicate." The haughty sniff held a world of opinions on the quality of the dressmaker's shop. "You will be expected to spend the majority of your time in this room, until we arrive in New York. Your sleeping quarters are there," she added, with a nod toward a small chamber just off the main room. "You may join the staff for breakfast at 6:00 am. A dinner tray will be brought to you here at 4:30. f you require anything in the meantime, this bell - -" She looked at a button set into the wall near the door, " - rings in the Head Steward's office. Do you have any questions?"

An unending stream of questions begged to be asked but Bella shoved them all away, and clasped her hands together neatly at her waist as she looked at Miss Trickelbank calmly. Only the over-bright glitter in her eyes hinted at the eagerness and impatience rippling through her. "No, miss."

"Hmmpf." The old woman sniffed again, before her eyes turned steely. "The first class decks are out of bounds to staff. If you feel the need to take the air, you may go down to the second class decks. Or . . ." Her gaze raked over Bella's simple attire one more time. ". . . the third class decks. If that's all, I'll leave you to settle in."

After one last scalding glance, Miss Trickelbank turned to go. When the door closed behind her, Bella stood unmoving, staring at it for a silent count of ten, until, finally sure the old woman wouldn't return, spun in a circle, laughing and hugging herself tightly. Slightly dizzy, she raced to the porthole and raised on tiptoe to look out over the vast, undulating waves of the ocean. On the other side of that endless expanse, America waited for her.


	2. Chapter 2

It didn't take long to settle in, as the bag that held her things contained only a few additional articles of clothing, the small amount of money she'd managed to save, and a wooden box in which Bella had stored the small things she'd inherited from her mother: an ivory-backed mirror and brush, and a simple strand of pearls. Still, she hummed happily as she hung the clothes from pegs stuck in the wall, and laid her her brush and mirror neatly on the washstand that stood beside the narrow bed she'd been provided. The small room might not be much, but it was far nicer than the attic above Madam Joubert's shop that she'd shared with five other girls. And it was hers, at least for the next seven days.

A quick knock sounded against the door before it opened and a young man wearing a steward's cap stuck his head in. He held out a swath of beaded lace.

"Are you the seamstress? Only I got this 'ere shawl for Lady Duff Gordon what needs some loose beads stitched back on."

Bella hurried forward to take the fragile material from him. It was time to earn her passage across the sea.

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Night had long fallen when she put finally put aside her work. Stewards and maids had popped in at regular intervals throughout the day, each one bearing some article of clothing that needed attention. A few of the older lady's maids had been as haughty as Miss Trickelbank but one or two of the younger girls had stayed to chat, as excited as Bella at the adventure of traveling on the Titanic. Like herself, most of the young woman had never been more than a few miles from home.

Arching her back to ease the tension in the muscles there, Bella stretched her arms high as she walked over to the porthole to peer out into the darkness. Although the moon wasn't visible from her vantage point, its glow fell across the water in the distance like a rippling ribbon of light, while stars as bright as diamonds glittered in a sky made of black velvet. An urgent need to explore the sky and the ocean blossomed. She nibbled on her bottom lip as temptation grew. The rules against staff on the first class deck were clear but . . . It was so late, and the ship had been quiet for hours.

Before she could talk herself out of it, Bella grabbed a shawl and hurried out.

The corridor was empty and, except for the occasional murmur of voices or laughter coming from behind closed doors, quiet. Fixed to the walls, small lamps fronted by elegant cut-glass guided her toward the steps that led out to the deck.

The sudden cold was a surprise, as was the biting wind that tugged at her hair and sent her skirts flapping around her ankles. Ignoring both, Bella tugged her shawl tighter around her shoulders and walked toward the railing. Awestruck, she leaned against the barrier and stared out. The sky and the ocean stretched out as far as she could see, vast and endless, painted in hundreds of shades of black and gray. The darkness was so thick, the light from the moon and the millions of stars seemed even brighter by comparison.

Tears sprang to her eyes. Never had she seen anything so beautiful, or been so conscious of her own insignificance.

The faintest of sounds reached her ears, a shoe sliding against the polished floor. Bella whipped around . . . then covered her mouth with one hand to stifle the scream that rose in her throat.

He stepped out of the shadows, clad in the formal suit he'd worn to dinner, the blinding white of his tie and shirt standing out sharply against the night. Hair as glossy as bronze satin swept back from his forehead, leaving bare a strong, square jaw, under deep-set eyes as black and cold as the sky above their heads.

Bella swallowed hard, and dropped her hand to her throat, aware suddenly of the frantic beat of her heart and the breath coming in quick pants. "Oh my. Excuse me, sir. I didn't know you were there. I'm so sorry to intrude . . ."

Horrified at being caught by a passenger out on the first class deck, she would have hurried quickly away but his voice froze her in place.

"I can't hear your thoughts."

The words seemed to surprise him as much as they did her, as if he hadn't realized he was speaking out loud. His reaction released a bit of the tension between them. Bella managed a tiny smile.

"I should hope not, sir."

A line appeared between his brows, as if he were thinking quickly. "I only meant that you seemed lost in contemplation as you looked out on the sea." He took a step forward and offered a stiff bow. "Please accept my apologies, ma'am. I don't believe I saw you at dinner. May I introduce myself? Edward Cullen, at your service."

The formality of his greeting had Bella dropping into a swift curtsy. "Bella Swan, sir. And it's I who should be offering you an apology. I'm the ship's seamstress, sir, and staff aren't allowed on this deck. For recreation, I mean. I'll just go back to my rooms now."

Edward raised one hand, bringing her halting steps to a stop. "Stay, please. Perhaps you could walk with me for a moment? I would enjoy your company, and feel far less awkward about interrupting your moment of reverie."

Bella hesitated. It wasn't normal behavior for her to walk with strangers, especially unknown men, but there was something alluring in his presence, something that compelled her closer. Her pulse fluttered again, like a butterfly trapped under glass. Then he smiled, and his eyes gleamed, no longer black but as warm as a copper penny. She blinked at the change, then set aside her first impression as a trick of the light.

"I suppose . . . for a few minutes . . ."

"Thank you." Edward gestured her on politely, then found a place by her side at a respectful distance, his hands clasped together behind his back. The heels of his shoes set a slow, steady rhythm. They walked in silence for a few minutes before he spoke again. "You said you were the ship's seamstress?"

Bella kept her gaze on the ever-changing surface of the water surrounding them. "Yes, sir. For mending and such, for any of the ladies who haven't brought their own maids."

Edward, too, kept his eyes focused straight ahead. "My sisters will be happy to hear of your services, I'm sure. Did you transfer from another of White Star's ships to the Titanic?"

"Oh no, sir. This is my very first time on a ship. I've never been out of London before." She stole a glance at his profile. Etched in moonlight, his strong features might have been carved in stone.

"Nor have I," he admitted. "Others in my family have sailed across the Channel but . . ." His voice trailed away. "Will you have much time to spend in New York before making the return trip?"

Bella moved toward the edge of the ship and propped her arms against the railing. "I won't be coming back. I'm staying in America. I'm working for my passage over."

Edward looked at her then, surprise in his face. "Not alone, surely. Do you have family meeting you?"

"My father left for America two years ago," Bella said, watching the waves churn beneath the boat. "He was going to make his fortune and then send for us, my mother and me. But Mother died six months ago, so I went into service with a dressmaker. Father sent money, but it wasn't enough to pay for my passage, so when I heard about this position, I was quick to accept. Father said that he traveled across the whole width of America and ended up in a town near the ocean called Forks. He thought it was a funny name, so he decided to stay. It's in a state called Washington, after their president. That's where I'm going," she added, looking at Edward with an expression that, had she but known it, reminded him of his father's enthusiasm. "Father has arranged tickets for a train that will take me from New York, all the way there."

Edward surprised her by sharing his own family's plans. He seemed younger, somehow, and more boyish as he talked. "We're traveling west, too. My father has been fascinated by America since the Revolution- since he read about the Revolutionary War. He's attended every lecture in London for years, whether it was an explorer or just someone who spent their holidays there," he laughed. "What a coincidence, that we should both end up here, with the same journey ahead of us."

Their eyes met and held. Attraction bloomed between them.

A shout from a crewman on one of the decks below them broke the spell that had fallen over them. Bella immediately stepped away from the railing and turned in the direction from which they'd come.

"It's late. I should go back to my room."

"Yes, of course." Edward nodded, formal once again, and remained at that same, polite distance from her as they headed back. "Thank you for walking with me, Miss Swan. I hope I haven't kept you too long from your rest."

"Not at all, Mr. Cullen. Goodnight." She gave him a shy smile, then dashed through the door that separated the passenger's cabins from the deck.

Edward watched her go, and was not surprised when barely a minute later, a deep voice spoke from the darkness.

"Edward, what are you doing?"

His chin jutted forward as he looked at the man he considered his father. "I was merely enjoying a walk along the deck."

Carlisle's eyes scanned the door through which Bella had disappeared. His face reflected a bittersweet regret when he looked back at Edward.

"I know that it is the custom for some humans to enjoy what they call a 'shipboard romance' on voyages such as this, but we do not have that luxury. You understand that."

Edward might have blushed, if blood still ran through his veins. Instead, his shoulders stiffened. "It was a walk, Father. That's all."

Carlisle didn't look convinced but he pushed the worry aside for the moment. "I'm glad to hear it. Perhaps you should return to our suite now. Alice suggested a game of cards to help distract Jasper."

Edward obeyed the gently-spoken order and said nothing more about the young woman with whom he'd spent a casual hour. But he was on the deck the next night, too, waiting, and was rewarded when Bella stepped timidly out into the darkness again.

He bowed at the waist. "Miss Swan."

Her fingers trembled in his when he raised them to his lips. "Please, call me Bella."

"Only if you will do me the honor of calling me Edward."

When he offered his arm, she slipped her hand through the bend of his elbow. Standing close enough that her skirts brushed against his feet, they set off walking.


	3. Chapter 3

Edward barely remembered what it felt like to sleep, to close one's eyes and slip into the realm of unconsciousness. But for the three nights that followed, he knew what it was to dream. For those few hours, he walked as a normal man might, with a beautiful woman on his arm, surrounded by moonlight and smiled on by the stars. Bella told him of her life, of her sadness at being left alone by her mother's death, and of her determination to build something new in the wild forests of America. She made every challenge sound insignificant, every obstacle a mere stepping stone.

Edward talked, too, although his stories were lies. Unable to tell the truth of what he was, he made up fanciful tales to describe his adopted siblings and the man and woman he called his parents. They sounded real enough - after all, he'd been rehearsing them for decades - and Bella was none the wiser.

But dreams always end, and cruelty hides within the happiest of fairy tales. When Alice burst into the elegant suite that Carlisle and Esme shared with Edward, he knew by the look on her face that his happy interlude was over. Her dainty, pixie-like beauty was marred by shock. She paced around the sitting room while Jasper, with Rosalie and Emmett, filed in behind her.

"I've seen . . . I've had a vision. This ship is going to sink. It's going to strike an iceberg. Hundreds will die."

Edward refused to believe it. "Are you sure? When?"

Alice shook her head. "I don't know. It was night in the vision. Perhaps tonight? Tomorrow night? When do we clear the ice fields?" Like the rest of the passengers, they'd been fascinated with the huge mountains of ice that surrounded the ship all day. With the sun shining brightly, they had been forced to observe the passing floes from the windows of their suites.

Edward was concerned only with Bella. "What can we do? How can we prevent it?"

"Not even our combined strength can move an iceberg." Carlisle shook his head, then frowned as he came to a decision. "Alice, you and Jasper need to get off this ship tonight. All of you do. Swim until you find land. I'll ask the steward to get us a map, perhaps we can plot our approximate location." When everyone began to argue, Carlisle raised a hand for silence. "Alice's visions are usually correct. If this ship strikes an iceberg, the resulting confusion and chaos will be too much for Jasper. He needs to be away from here before it happens. It may affect all of you. For the safety of the passengers, you need to leave."

Emmett alone seemed unbothered by the thought of jumping ship. "We can't be that far from Canada by now. I vote we swim for it."

"Thank you," Carlisle said approvingly. "Now, we need to plan what you will take. Most of our funds were wired to the bank in New York but there are several pounds of gold that you'll have to carry with you-"

"I'm not going anywhere until I know Bella is safe."

Edward's sudden declaration met with the same disapproval that his evening walks with the young seamstress had earned from the family. Only Esme offered a measure of understanding. She laid one hand on his arm but looked at Carlisle.

"Carlisle will see that she's safe. Won't you, darling?"

Carlisle hesitated, but the pain and fear on Edward's face tugged at his sympathy. The only one of his children without a mate, it was a cruel twist of irony that fate seemed to have connected him to a human woman. He nodded, unhappy but resigned. "I'll make sure she gets into a lifeboat. I promise. I promise," he repeated, holding Edward's eyes and opening his thoughts to the younger man's view. "You have my word."

When Edward reluctantly nodded, Esme let go of his arm and embraced Carlisle. "See that you don't get trapped underwater while you're saving these humans. I know you need to help those you can, but remember that we need you, too. I expect to see your head in the waves beside me before we reach land."

He turned her palm to his lips and pressed a kiss there. "You will, my love. I swear it."

In the frenzy of preparation for their departure, Edward had no opportunity to warn Bella of Alice's vision, or to explain why she should believe it. When night fell and the sound of laughter mingled with the music of the band drifting from the dining room, he crawled down the side of the ship with the others. Showing no reaction to the frigid temperature, they dropped into the icy water and swam away.


	4. Chapter 4

Bella was sleeping on her narrow cot, napping away the hours before it was time to meet Edward on deck, when she was jolted awake. Unaware of the collision with the iceberg that had roused her, she lay there, groggy, for a few minutes more, then sat up and looked at the watch pinned to her blouse.

Not quite midnight.

She yawned and stood up, brushing the wrinkles out of her skirt and slapping at her cheeks as she fought off the remnants of sleep. It wouldn't hurt to go out on deck a few minutes early, she decided. The cold weather would wake her up.

A rapid knock on her door raised a hint of alarm. She opened it slowly, just enough to peek through the crack.

"Yes?"

The man standing there reminded her of the perfection of paintings she'd seen hanging in museums. Wrapped in a thick wool coat, a fine felt bowler hat perched on bright golden hair, under which a pair of friendly eyes gleamed like . . .

Like a shiny copper penny, Bella thought. _Edward's eyes. He has Edward's eyes._

"Miss Swan? My name is Carlisle Cullen. I'm Edward's . . . father." The hesitation was so brief, it was gone before she noticed it. "I'm afraid I have some bad news. The ship has run into a spot of trouble. I need to get you into a lifeboat quickly. Can you come with me, please?"

Shocked, Bella let the door fall open. She glanced out into the hallway, which remained eerily silent.

Carlisle acknowledge the quiet atmosphere with a frown. "The crew is still notifying passengers. I promised Edward that I would get you to safety." His glance moved past her shoulder to the rather mean quarters that she'd been given. "You have time to pack a small bag, if you can be quick. Perhaps just personal items?"

Bella stayed where she was, eyeing him suspiciously. "Where's Edward?"

"He's helping his mother and his sisters," Carlisle answered smoothly. "Miss Swan, I must insist . . ."

From elsewhere in the ship, the first panicked voices could be heard. Carlisle spared one quick look down the hall before he turned to Bella again. "Miss Swan."

Running feet thumped overhead. A sudden sense of urgency filled Bella. She ran to the small bedroom and grabbed the canvas bag she'd emptied only a few days before, stuffing it again with her belongings and the small, precious cache of money she'd brought with her. When she ran back to Carlisle, he was waiting with a heavy, fur-lined cape.

"This belonged to my wife," he said, as he draped it around her. "She is warm enough at the moment, so I thought you could use it. Now, come with me."

With an arm around her waist, he hurried her up to the same deck where she'd spent so many happy hours with Edward. Usually empty, it was just beginning to fill with passengers pouring out of doors and stairwells. Panic swelled among them, leading to raised voices and tears. Carlisle ignored the tumult for the moment and led her to a short line of people waiting to climb into a lifeboat. When she was settled, one of the crew immediately began to lower the boat.

"Wait!" Bella cried out, as Carlisle turned to leave. "What about Edward? Where is he?"

Carlisle smiled at her. "Edward is quite safe, I promise you. Good luck, my dear. Keep that nice warm cloak wrapped securely around you. It will be a cold night."

The lifeboat continued its slow descent to the ocean's surface. As the crew set to work rowing away from the sinking vessel, Bella caught one last glimpse of Carlisle, recognizable by the bright gleam of his shiny blond hair, helping others into the few lifeboats hanging from the side of the ship. Despite frantically searching as much of the deck as she could see, she saw nothing of Edward and soon enough, the distance and the darkness stole all but the most limited visibility.

The night was filled with horrors that would never leave her memory. The cries of those left on board echoed across the water, mingling with the pleas of those trapped in the water. Bella's lifeboat was hundreds of yards away, far enough to have a macabre, panoramic view when the big ship tilted out of the water, then broke in half with an horrific explosion of sound. The lucky few who had found places of safety in the boats could only watch in terror as moments later, the two halves sank beneath the surface, leaving only an eerie, endless silence.

Soon enough, however, voices began to cry out as survivors called the names of loved ones, hoping to hear an answering shout. Bella, too, joined in the fruitless effort.

"Edward! Edward!" There was no answer.

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It took three hours before the crew from the _RMS Carpathia_ reached the lifeboat where Bella huddled with two dozen other survivors. Suffering from cold and shock, they were transferred, meek as children, on board the rescuing ship and plied with warm food and drink. Still wrapped in the fur-lined cape, Bella wandered among the others who had been plucked from the ocean, scanning each face in the futile hope of finding Edward. Finally, dry-eyed and numb with pain, she went in search of someone who could help her send a telegram to her father.

Barely a month later, she had become an unwilling object of curiosity in the small town of Forks, Washington. Her father's general store profited from the attention she received as a survivor of the Titanic disaster, as the other residents continued to find excuses to drop in for supplies and a question or two about her ordeal. Constantly reliving the experience kept those days at the front of her thoughts, and kept the memory of Edward fresh. It was no surprise then, that when the merry tinkle of bells attached to the shop's door announced that some hardy customer had braved the rainy afternoon, that it took a moment before Bella realized that she wasn't in the middle of a dream.

"Hello, Bella," Edward said, then rushed to catch her as she fainted.


End file.
